Page 408 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

the devil’s tricks than you can show me. You had best be
quiet.’ Rex neglected the warning, and Rufus Dawes took
him by the throat one day, and would have strangled him,
but that Troke beat off the angered man with a favourite
bludgeon. Rex had a wholesome respect for personal prow-
ess, and had the grace to admit the provocation to Troke.
Even this instance of self-denial did not move the stubborn
Dawes. He only laughed. Then Rex came to a conclusion.
His mate was plotting an escape. He himself cherished a
notion of the kind, as did Gabbett and Vetch, but by com-
mon distrust no one ever gave utterance to thoughts of this
nature. It would be too dangerous. ‘He would be a good
comrade for a rush,’ thought Rex, and resolved more firmly
than ever to ally himself to this dangerous and silent com-
panion.
One question Dawes had asked which Rex had been able
to answer: ‘Who is that North?’
‘A chaplain. He is only here for a week or so. There is a
new one coming. North goes to Sydney. He is not in favour
with the Bishop.’
‘How do you know?’
‘By deduction,’ says Rex, with a smile peculiar to him.
‘He wears coloured clothes, and smokes, and doesn’t patter
Scripture. The Bishop dresses in black, detests tobacco, and
quotes the Bible like a concordance. North is sent here for
a month, as a warming-pan for that ass Meekin. Ergo, the
Bishop don’t care about North.’
Jemmy Vetch, who was next to Rex, let the full weight
of his portion of tree-trunk rest upon Gabbett, in order to

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